Unspoken Words

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fic are copyright to their original owner. I do not own them.

The room was dark, casting shadows over anything and everything. They danced with an errie feel. This caused by the only source of light in the room. A small lamp sat atop a desk. Near the desk sat a man. This man's name was Teru Mikami. He sat hunched over, body in a horribly tense position. His eyes seemed dead to the world. Lifeless optics that only saw what was in front of him. His mouth in a grimace. Features displayed a blank void. The only hint of emotion came from a faint twitch of an eyebrow, possibly in worry.

In front of him on the carefully polished desk, sat an open diary. He'd apparently been writing in it for a while, judging by all the used pages. Mikami sighed heavily. His head fell in his hands. He cursed his inability to handle these emotions. Why? Why couldn't he control this one little insignificant thing. Since he was a kid he'd been picked on and beaten up by bullies. Only because they thought he was weird. Or cause he'd stood up for somebody else getting bullied, only to receive it himself. This was something completely out of his control. It was chaos, disorder. Something that didn't set well with him. Perhaps he'd started to notice it as he grew older. Locking the door multiple times. Frequently washing is hands numerous times during the day. Soon, It came to the point that if he didn't do these things, he'd feel out of control, spiraling down into suffocating darkness. then, as soon as he did the action, a soothing wave would crash over him. Only to be replaced a few hours later by another gnawing, destructive tic.

His mother had noticed but thought he'd eventually grow out of it. Sadly, a few years after these tics had broke through the surface, Mikami's mother had died. The loss of perhaps the one and only person who'd understood him was too much. Feeding on his fear and sadness, the tics seemed to grow and grow, finally becoming like ravenous monsters. This however, didn't stop Mikami from pursuing his dream job. He'd gotten a job as a prosecutor and that seemed to fit him well. With his strong sense of justice, it eased his mind everytime one was hauled off to prison. Whether they were truly guilty or not really didn't seem to bother him. If they'd been found guilty, that was good enough for him.

Still, even with his job, this really didn't soothe the feeling that no one really understood him. He felt alone and distanced himself from others, only speaking and carrying on conversations when it was necessary. Not that this hindered his social skills. he still retained them enough to have connections with others on a business level. But that was it. His life had became one big methodical scenario. the same thing day after day Never changing. That is until one day, he'd finally gotten what he'd wanted all along. Someone who understood him.

It started with all these mysterious deaths. People were all dropping dead with heart attacks. And the strange thing was, all these people were criminals of one kind or another. Mikami noticed that whoever it was, they were eliminating the evils of the world. Eliminating the sheer chaos of it all. slowly, the people began to fear this unknown person. giving him the name 'Kira' A name rumored to come from the english word 'killer.' But to mikami, this person wasn't a killer. he was a just figure, cleansing the world of evil. Soon, others too began to support 'Kira' His Kami, his God. Eventually, Mikami'd gotten noticed by Kira and had been given a most wonderful gift. His Kami had sent him the tool of justice and claimed him to be his right hand in helping him shape the New World. The tool was a DeathNote. Simply write a persons name and they die. Mikami was fiercely loyal to his Kami doing whatever he wished. Even though Mikami fully knew he was just Kira's right hand, a tool, his obsession and even infatuation grew. And this was what was haunting his mind as he sat, hunched over his diary.

~**~

The diary contained words he could never say, words he would never dare repeat. The little book was filled with them. Page upon page. why these were so hard to utter he didn't know. Why couldn't he just come out and say them? With a frustrated groan, he simply shut the book and slipped it into the open drawer. Key locked it. This was also where he kept his DeathNote...at least for the time being.

Hands rubbed against his temples. He felt a migraine coming on. Rushed on by stress, no doubt. On top of passing judgement for God, he'd also been working a tough case. It seemed to go on forever. His head giving a pounding throb, Mikami whimpered and rested his head against the desk. The cool surface felt good to his burning skin. He was almost dozed off when a sudden knock caused him to jump awake. The doorknob slowly turned and in walked a young man about the age of twenty three. he had short brown hair. Clothes consisted of a black suit with pressed black pants. His shoes were also polished. His features held a slight smile as he gazed at Mikami, but his eyes held no warmth. No kindness.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Mikami got to his feet and quickly walked over. He gave a small bow before answering.

"Kami, please forgive me. I had no idea you would be arriving or I would've been in a more respectable wardrobe."
Mikami had earlier left work and had already changed into his pajamas. A baggy overshirt and baggy pants.

Being in his sleepwear and caught a little unprepared had fueled a little embarrassment in Mikami. But also, the sheer sight of his God had caused his mind to go insane. His clean scent sending shaming emotions to Mikami. He had to use every ounce of his willpower not to explode and utter those words. No, those words he'd take those words to his grave. He could never utter them to one such as gorgeous as his God. he softly bit his lip in response. Another beastly tic.

Kira simply smiled. "Don't worry about it, Mikami. I just came by to remind you to remind you about tomorrow. That foolish bastard Near thinks he's won. But I'm one step ahead of him." Kira let out a small laugh after those words. A sound that caused a small whimper to leave Mikami's throat. It sounded so beautiful. Luckily, Kira didn't seem to notice the sound.

'You do remember what I've told you to do, don't you?" His expression suddenly turning cold and severe.
It took Mikami a few seconds to answer. His throat seemed to be locked up.

"Y-yes milord. I do. I do only as you wish Kami." His voice sounded shaky as he stuttered slightly. He winced when his God's expression changed to one of concern. He walked over to him slowly, his face mear inches from his.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a deadly whisper. "You seem...distracted by something." Mikami almost screamed when he felt his God's hand brush softly against his cheek. The coolness of his hand felt wonderful to his burning skin. He suddenly felt an urge to hold it there, to kiss it gently, but his God's hand simply fell away. His brown eyes peering intently into his own. "Is there something you wish to tell me my pet?"

It was pure torture. He couldn't stand it. His body shook slightly as he spoke. He wasn't surprised to find his eyes slightly moist. Every ounce of his being was fighting now.
"No milord. Forgive me. I am just a little tired." He offered a weak smile as proof.

Giving Mikami one last gaze, Kira gave a small nod and turned to leave. Mikami had to bite his tongue to keep from calling out to him, telling him to stay. Telling him not to leave him. He bit with such force he actually tasted blood. This coupled with everything else didn't help. After his lord had shut the door and was gone, all the barriers on Mikami's emotions fell apart. With an agonizing shriek he fell to the floor. Tears flowing freely as body wracking sobs emitted from his throat. It was then that Mikami screamed at top of his lungs what he'd been dying to say all along. The words he'd been writing in the diary all this time. The unspoken words he thought he'd never dare say until now.

"Kami....I love you!"

Mikami was like that for the rest of the night. until finally sweet blissful darkness overtook him. And had taken him into a world where he was understood and more importantly loved. Loved by his God.